


Witchcraft and Whiskers

by noxlee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cat Dean Winchester, Cats, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Spell Failure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 06:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlee/pseuds/noxlee
Summary: Castiel brings home a disgruntled, abandoned cat the night before Halloween. He thinks nothing of it. He lets the animal inside and gives it something to eat and a warm place to sleep. Pretty typical, right? Well, that would be until Castiel wakes up to find his animal companion gone and a certain someone standing in his kitchen. Naked.





	Witchcraft and Whiskers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [rosemoonweaver's Fic-o-Ween challenge.](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/post/165388933710/please-excuse-the-lame-graphic-im-a-writer-not) (Prompt #16)
> 
> Many thanks to [Shannon-Kind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon_Kind) for brainstorming ideas for this with me, and stepping in as an exceptionally last minute beta. She had some lovely suggestions to make this better, and I ran out of time to heed any of them. All mistakes and bad writing choices are entirely my own.

Halloween had always been Castiel’s favourite time of the year. He loved watching the leaves turn colour and crunch underfoot. The crisp air that carried the smell of winter always made him want to curl up with a cup of tea and a good book. And he loved the theatrics of Halloween: the skeletons and ghosts that hung from porches, carved pumpkins alight with candles. It was all so magical.

And magic was an endless source of fascination to Castiel. He knew it wasn’t real, of course, but he liked to imagine. His favourite books were ones filled with witches and spells and all manner of supernatural creatures. It was these fantastical tales that he kept in stock at his bookstore, _The Cosmic Void._ And, because books didn’t always sell like they should, he also sold various oddities that gave his store the air of an old-time apothecary: amulets, herbal remedies, natural bath products, quills, pretend hex bags. They were all trinkets, but with the atmosphere he created, he had cultivated a small following of admirers, and people often travelled from surrounding areas to visit his store.

It was only a few days until Halloween, and Castiel was attempting to string candles from the ceiling with fishing wire to give the illusion of them floating in midair. He was balanced precariously on a ladder when Sam Winchester burst through the door, sounding the bell overhead.

“Cas, look what I found!” Sam dropped his knapsack with a thud on the counter and the ladder creaked and wobbled precariously.

Castiel scrambled to regain his balance and made his way carefully back down the rungs. He had hired Sam on as an employee at the bookstore nearly six months ago. Sam had been eager about the job, desperate for another source of income to fund his schooling, and had a shared reverence for books that Castiel hadn’t been able to turn down. Over time, Sam had also come to be a cherished friend. Castiel’s once solitary existence was now peppered with weekly evenings spent with Sam and his friends.

He peered over Sam’s shoulder at the leather-bound volume he was pulling out of his bag. “What is it?”

“A spell book!” Sam was practically vibrating with excitement.

Castiel laughed, but let out a low whistle when Sam slid the book over to him. It was definitely old, that much was certain. He ran his fingers gingerly over the cover and opened it to reveal delicate, yellowing pages.

“Where did you get this?”

“Yard sale,” Sam said with a smirk. “They were practically giving it away.”

Cas nodded as he flipped through the pages and tried not to sneeze as dust bunnies billowed up from everywhere. It seemed more like an old family almanac than a grimoire, in Castiel’s opinion. Sure, there were some odd symbols and Latin scribbled in some the margins, but it was mostly instructions for herbal remedies: cures for allergies, warts, and headaches, all of which called for perfectly natural ingredients like nettle and goldenrod.

But one look at Sam’s eager expression and he bit his tongue. Even if it wasn’t a grimoire, it was a beautiful find that was undoubtedly worth much more than Sam had paid for it at a yard sale.

“It’s wonderful, Sam. Great find.”

Sam offered to display it in the store for Halloween, and spent the rest of the morning making an elaborate window display, complete with an animated cauldron made to look like the broomstick stirring it was moving on its own.

The rest of the day passed quickly and Castiel soon lost track of time. He was just putting the finishing touches on a display of books that he had stacked in a careful pyramid near the front counter when the bell over the door chimed.

“Ready to go, Sammy?” came a deep, cheerful voice from the doorway.

Castiel spun around so fast he sent his display toppling to the floor in a crash.

“Cas?” The man in the doorway was eyeing him with concern.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas sighed. He could feel his face heating up and he ducked to pick up the books that had fallen to the floor.

Dean Winchester was Sam’s older brother and a growing problem for Castiel. He would often pick Sam up from work, or drop him off, and more recently he had been stopping by during the day to bring Sam lunch or coffee. The problem was that Castiel couldn’t stop thinking about him. From the moment Dean had walked through his doors for the first time all those months ago, Castiel’s world had been off-kilter. Not to mention the fact that he seemed to lose all control of his fine motor functions in Dean’s presence. That first time he met Dean, Castiel had accidentally short circuited a lightbulb and sent sparks flying throughout the store– it was a wonder he hadn’t burnt the place down. Since then, he had been endlessly flustered in Dean’s presence.

“You okay?” Dean had squatted next to him and helped retrieve some of the scattered books. He handed them over with a gentle smile that made Castiel’s insides melt.

“I uh…” Castiel knew he stared too much. It was hard not to, what with those freckles and that smile. And those bright green eyes that Castiel just wanted to drown in. It would be bad enough if it was just that Dean was good looking. Cas felt certain he would have been able to handle that because he was so rarely affected by attractive people. He could appreciate when someone was aesthetically pleasing by conventional standards, but that was usually where it ended for him. But with Dean it had been different. Dean had gone and been a wonderful, kind, caring person to boot, and Cas was completely screwed. The more he got to know Dean, the more his hopeless little crush had festered.

Dean was staring back at him, a frown beginning to pull at his features the longer Cas remained silent and ogling him.

“Yeah, fine. Thank you.” Castiel accepted the books from Dean and suppressed a shudder when their fingers brushed. He stood up and found Sam trying to reassemble the pyramid.

“Don’t worry about it, Sam,” Cas sighed. “I’ll do it tomorrow. Go home.”

“We’ll see you for scary movie night, right?” Sam asked as he was leaving.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be there.” But Castiel had already begun devising excuses in his head. A headache, maybe? As much as Castiel enjoyed spending time with Sam and his friends, horror movies had never really appealed to him much.

Dean winked at him. “See ya then, Cas.”

Castiel’s stomach flipped. Maybe his headache wasn’t so bad after all.

 

\-----

 

Castiel arrived at Sam and Dean’s place the night before Halloween with no small amount of trepidation. As much as Castiel liked Halloween, he really wasn’t fond of horror movies. He’d never quite had the constitution for it, and he was already beginning to regret his decision to come tonight. He could be at home with a cup of tea and a good book. Why was he even here? Chances were good he wouldn’t make it through the night and would just make a fool of himself. He should have skipped this evening, and come back next week for regular games night. Everyone would have understood if he’d just said he was tired.

 _Dean’s going to be here tonight,_ his brain supplied. And yes, Dean would be here tonight. That would make it worth it, right? He smoothed down his shirt and knocked on the door. He heard yelling from within, and heavy footsteps heading to the door.

Of course, having Dean there might make everything worse. He would witness firsthand what an absolute wimp Castiel was. Did he really want Dean to see him cowering behind the couch with his hands over his ears? Because that’s what happened the last time he tried to watch a scary movie.

Castiel had worked himself into a panic by the time Sam flung open the door and ushered him in. He relaxed only slightly when he was greeted in the living room by Meg and Kevin. He rubbed his palms on his jeans and straightened his shirt again.

“Relax, Cas,” Meg said, shoving him down onto the couch. “Loosen up a bit. I promise it’s not _that_ scary.”

Cas snorted. Unlikely. His stomach was too unsettled to even consider the pizza Kevin offered, and he settled back on the couch. The jokes and banter of his friends soon had him forgetting why he was there, until Sam got up to put in the DVD and get things started.

“Wait, is Dean not— is he not joining us?” Cas asked. He ignored the smirk on Meg’s face.

“Nah, he’s got some party tonight he wants to go to,” Sam said as he fiddled with the DVD player. “Some girl he’s trying to get with.”

Castiel felt his heart sink. Of course.

There was a commotion in the hall as Dean chose that moment to come tearing down the stairs. He poked his head in the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe, and Castiel couldn’t help but stare again.

“Hey Sammy, don’t wait up,” Dean said. “If things go well, I might not be back all weekend.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Classy, Dean.”

And with that, Dean was gone. Cas shoved his disappointment down and turned his attention to the television, where _The Shining_ was starting.

Only a minute into the film, and all that had been shown so far was a car driving along a winding, deserted road, but Castiel _knew_ he wasn’t going to like this. The music had his stomach twisting in knots already.

By the time Danny and his mother were wandering in the maze, Castiel’s fingernails were digging into his skin.

Ten minutes later, and Castiel was on the edge of his seat, not sure how much more of it he could take, and yet he knew they weren’t even at the worst of it yet. He was not helped by the weather outside. The sun was setting, casting the backyard in a wash of dark shadows. Harsh winds whipped the edges of a tree branch against the sliding glass doors.

Suddenly, there was a bang outside, and Castiel jumped so high that Meg giggled.

Sam stood up and went to the sliding glass doors that looked out to the backyard, now obscured by darkness. “What the—”

There was another bang, a flash of lightning, and the outline of something pressed against the door. Sam lurched back, and Cas topped off the edge of his seat with a squeal. He felt somewhat vindicated by the fact that even Meg and Kevin had jumped a little this time. Kevin hit pause on the video as they all turned their attention to the backyard.

Sam unlocked the door and slid it open a few inches, peering out into the dark. A sharp gust of cold wind blew in alongside a large, very angry looking cat. Sam pushed the door shut again, and they all stared in silence for a long moment at the windswept creature that had bounded into the living room.

A beat passed, and then the cat lunged at Sam’s legs. “Arrrrgh!”

All three of them jumped to Sam’s aid as the cat dug its claws into Sam’s denim and clung tightly as Sam shook his leg. Kevin got there first and pried the cat off.

He deposited it in the middle of the room again, and Sam retreated behind the couch. They stared, and it glared back up at them, seething. Then, it sneezed.

Sam snorted in disgust, but Cas’s heart melted just a little. It was cute, really. The cat was large, with muted tortoiseshell colouring, like it couldn’t make up its mind what colour its fur was supposed to be. It was mostly a rust colour, with blurred splotches of tawny brown and white. Its eyes were a bright, vibrant green, like there was fire behind them, and it had long, delicate whiskers. It was scowling, its tail flicking back and forth angrily, its fur was all mussed up, and its nose was dripping. But Cas was suddenly smitten with the thing, and thought it was really quite beautiful. He crouched down to pat it on the head and Sam gasped at him.

“Dude, it’s rabid! Stay away!” Even Meg and Kevin had backed up a couple steps.

“No, she’s just scared,” Cas reasoned. He reached out to stroke her head and the cat hissed once at him before letting him continue. Although the cat’s mood didn’t change any, it didn’t attack him either. It sneezed again, and Cas couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hey there, sweetheart. Are you sick?” The cat just glared at him.

Meg inched forward and crouched down on the floor next to him. “It looks like an overgrown rat.”

Cas frowned. “It does not. She’s beautiful, look.”

Meg snorted. But Kevin peered over his shoulder and nodded. “I guess she would be kind of a good-looking cat if you got her cleaned up. And if she wasn’t so…”

“Evil,” Sam supplied.

“She not evil,” Cas insisted. “She’s just— oh, look! Aww.” The cat had sneezed again, then started shivering. “We should keep her inside overnight; it's dangerous for cats to be outside around Halloween. Anything could happen to her out there.”

“Well she can’t stay here,” Sam said. “She’ll murder me in my sleep, I’m sure of it. Besides, Dean’s allergic.”

“That hellbeast is not setting foot in my place,” Meg said. “And besides—”

“I’ll take her,” Cas said, cutting her off before she could continue. Three sets of eyes turned to look at him. Four, if you counted the cat. “What? I think she’s cute. I’ll give her some food and a warm place to stay tonight, and I’ll drop her off at the vet’s first thing tomorrow when they open. They’ll either find who she belongs to, or find her a new home.”

The cat sneezed again. “And they’ll be able to check her out. Take care of those sniffles,” Cas added.

The cat’s bravado seemed to deflate a little as Cas scooped her up in his arms. She shivered against his chest, and he curled his arms around her protectively.

“Well you don’t have to go right now,” Sam said. “We haven’t even made it through one movie yet.”

“You guys watch without me,” Cas said, grateful for what was finally a reasonable excuse to ditch on scary movie night.

 

\-----

 

Cas set the cat down on the sidewalk as he fumbled with the keys to his Continental. He eyed the cat curiously, wondering if maybe she might wander off on her own. Surely she had a home nearby and knew where to go. But as soon as he got the door to his car open, the cat hopped in of its own accord and settled into the passenger seat.

“Well, alright then. I guess you really are coming home with me.” Cas closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

He wondered if maybe he should have tried to find some kind of cage for transport. What was to stop the cat from climbing all over him while he was driving? Or worse, attacking him like she had Sam? Cas had never had a cat before. He liked them well enough, and he always stopped to feed stray cats whenever he could. But he’d never had one in his home before, nor in his car, and he wasn’t too sure what to expect.

He slid into the driver’s side, buckled in, and turned to look at the cat again. She was sitting upright in the passenger seat next to him, staring out the front window expectantly.

A few moments passed, and when Castiel didn’t start the car, the cat turned to return his stare, her tail twitching.

Well then. Evidently this was a cat that liked cars.

Cas turned the key in the ignition and put the car in drive.

 

\-----

 

The ride home was quick, and there was definitely no need for a cat carrier. The cat had remained in the seat next to him, clearly agitated and nervous, but exceptionally well-behaved. It hadn’t moved once from its spot on the seat.

The sun had fully set by the time Castiel pulled onto his street and into his driveway. Cas had chattered away to the cat on the drive. Just small talk, telling her where they were going every time he made a turn. It was a little stupid, perhaps, to talk to a cat, but she did seem to calm down with Castiel’s voice, and her face looked less angry. By the time they arrived home, the cat was no longer scowling. It was sitting quietly on his passenger seat except for the occasional sneeze, just looking a little bewildered.

Castiel lifted her carefully to bring her inside, struggling for only a moment at the door as he tried to balance her weight in one hand while he fumbled with his keys with the other. She didn’t squirm, so that made it easier, but she was certainly not a light cat. He set her down with a thump once they got inside.

Castiel started towards his living room but paused when he realized that cat wasn’t budging from the foyer. It stayed sitting there, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Well come on,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable while you’re here.”

“Oy, hey! Not _that_ comfortable,” Cas grumbled as the cat darted past him and nearly toppled a vase over.

While the cat investigated the living room, Cas scavenged his kitchen for something to feed her. There were not a lot of options, for either the cat or himself. He hadn’t eaten anything at Sam’s and he was definitely hungry. His fridge yielded some questionable takeout containers that he quickly tossed. He eyed the box of candy in the pantry that he’d bought for trick-or-treaters tomorrow, but ultimately settled on a box of mac and cheese and a tin of tuna. He boiled the water for himself and cracked the tuna can, half expecting the cat to come running. Surely, she was hungry. Weren’t cats supposed to go crazy for the smell of tuna?

Cas wandered back into the living room with the tuna and nearly dropped it.

“Hey, stop it!” The cat had climbed up into his bookshelves and had knocked several books off. She looked at him pointedly, then poked at another book with her paw. It toppled to the floor with a crash.

“You little shit,” Cas muttered, as he pulled the cat off the bookshelf and set her back on the floor. “Here, I have tuna.”

He placed the opened can on the floor in front of her and set about tidying his bookshelves. When all his books were returned to their place he turned back to the cat and frowned.

She was looking up at him with expectant eyes. The tuna was untouched.

“Are you not hungry?” Cas asked. He jumped when he heard the sound of the water boiling over in the kitchen and rushed back to tend to his mac and cheese. He drained the water, stirred the cheese and milk in, and watched it blend together. Maybe the cat would drink milk. Cats liked milk, didn’t they?

Cas brought his own dinner back to the couch along with a bowl of milk. He set it down on the floor, but the cat seemed about as unenthused about the milk as she had the tuna. She sniffed at them both, and looked back up at Cas’s mac and cheese.

He curled the bowl into his chest. “This is mine.”

The cat stared at him and sneezed.

“It’s not even all that good anyway,” Cas tried to explain. “I can’t make it right. There’s all these weird clumpy bits.”

But the cat was deeply interested in Cas’s bowl now, and tried to jump up on the couch. Tried, because her lower half didn’t quite make it, and she hung suspended for a moment, back legs flailing below her. Cas gave her a gentle tug, and she heaved herself up onto the couch next to him, sitting down with another sneeze.

“Gosh, you’re cute,” Cas muttered. “Fine, here. You can try some.” He offered the cat a noodle and she sniffed at it. She took a tentative lick, and then wrinkled her nose. But she watched Cas carefully as he ate his dinner, and when he was done, he offered her the bottom of the bowl where a few bits of macaroni remained. She sniffed at it delicately, then with no grace whatsoever, shoved her head completely into the bowl and licked at the sides. She cleaned most of it up, and when she pulled back, her face and whiskers were covered in cheese. She sneezed again, and it flew everywhere.

Cas laughed, and the scowl returned. He reached over to pet her, but she jumped a little and eyed him with hesitation. Her tail twitched back and forth and she sneezed again.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Cas said, keeping his voice as soft and soothing as he could muster. “I know life must be awfully scary for you right now. I promise you’re safe here. Nothing’s going to hurt you. I’ll take care of you, and tomorrow we’ll get you checked over by the doc. Maybe we can even find where you came from and get you reunited with your family. Hmm? How ‘bout that?”

Castiel still felt silly talking to the cat like she could understand him. But the sound of his voice seemed to soothe her again, and she inched a little closer. He reached out, and this time she let him scratch the top of her head.

He propped a book open in one hand, and continued to stroke the cat with his other. He was startled a few moments later when the cat began purring. It was soft at first, and barely audible. Buoyed, Cas continued scritching behind her ears, and dug his fingers in a little deeper. The purrs grew louder, and the cat’s eyes fell shut.

An hour later, Cas was loathe to move. The cat had drifted closer and closer to him, and was now sprawled across his lap with her belly in the air. Her head hung upside down off the other side of his lap, eyes half closed, tongue hanging out just a bit, and purring louder than Castiel had realized was possible for a creature of her size.

They both jumped when Castiel’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Baby brother! I found someone for you.”

Castiel winced and moved the phone back from his ear. His brother Gabriel continued to shout in his ear over loud background music that Castiel could hear thumping.

“His name is Clark. He’s got blue eyes and a killer behind. You’re going to love him.”

Castiel sighed. “I’m not interested, Gabriel. Please stop trying to set me up with every single man you find.”

“Can I help it if I want to see my baby brother happy?”

“I am happy,” Castiel insisted. With the distraction of the phone call, his hand had stopped stroking the cat, and she lifted her head to look at him. He resumed rubbing the soft, slightly tubby fluff of her belly as he listened to his brother prattle on.

“Really, Cas. It’s been months. You have to get over whatever hold this guy’s got over you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. So Dean-o doesn’t love you back. He’s just some dumb, doe-eyed jock. We’ll find you another one that’s just as pretty.”

Cas bristled. “Dean isn’t just pretty, Gabe. And he’s not dumb. He’s smart and kind and loyal. And funny. And a million other things.”

“Clark’s a barrel of laughs, I swear. Listen, I’m going to give him your number, okay?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Uh...”

“Gabe!”

“Just give him a chance, alright Cas?”

Castiel sighed as he hung up the phone. He lifted the cat and set her gently back down on the couch cushion. She looked content, finally, and he figured the couch was as good a place as any for her to spend the night.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” Cas kissed the top of her head, then turned in for the night.

 

\-----

 

He had brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas, and was just climbing into bed when he heard a thwacking noise. A small paw was poking up from the underside of his door and scratching valiantly at the wood. It retreated, and a distinctly morose meow could be heard. A sneeze, then a flopping noise, and the paw re-emerged, smacking at the underside of the door again.

He opened his bedroom door and the cat, who had been leaning heavily against it, came tumbling into the room and landed clumsily at his feet. She looked up at him and sneezed.

“Hey there, I’m sorry.” Cas picked her up and snuggled her to his chest. The cat nuzzled into him and purred. “You don’t like being alone, huh?” The cat burrowed further into Cas’s chest in response.

Cas made a careful nest of some spare blankets in the corner of his room. He fluffed a pillow and put it in the middle, and, with a final stroke of inspiration, turned on a heating pad to put underneath.

“What do you think?” He grinned down at the cat who was staring at the makeshift bed with apprehension. “Go on, try it.” He nudged the cat, but she dug her claws into the carpet and wouldn’t budge. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Cas leaned down to pick the cat up, but as he tried to set her down into the blankets, her forepaws clung around his neck and dug into his t-shirt.

“Ouch! Alright, alright.” Cas stood back up with a sigh and deposited the cat onto the end of his bed. “I guess you can sleep with me tonight if you want.” The cat sneezed, but looked up at him with a pleased expression, her tail quivering at him. Castiel gave her a gentle pat on the head.

He pulled back the blankets, but before he could climb in, the cat jumped to the very middle of the bed, sprawled on her back, and resumed her purring. Castiel waited for her to move again, but when it became evident that she was settling in for the night, Castiel sighed again and shimmied in. He balanced precariously at the edge of the bed so as not to lay on top of the cat and yet not fall out of bed himself. Once he’d settled awkwardly on his back, the cat curled into his side and laid her head on his chest. He scratched behind her ears, and the vibrations from her purrs settled into his body.

Cas had to admit, even with the awkward position, this was kind of nice. He was warm, and comfortable. He could probably get used to having a small, furry companion around.

“If we can’t find your family, I might just have to keep you,” he whispered, as the purrs lulled him into a deep sleep.

 

\-----

 

Castiel awoke the next morning with a jolt. He had been in a deeply restful sleep— the best he'd had in a long time. But something had startled him awake. He looked around his room. Nothing seemed to be out of order. The cat, who had fallen asleep next to him had vanished, but she had probably just wandered off in the night to someplace more comfortable.

His bedroom door was closed, which wasn't in itself odd. Castiel often kept his door closed when he slept. But then, how had the cat got out?

He heard a muffled noise coming from the direction of his kitchen and he sat bolt upright in bed, fear shooting straight down his spine. _Someone was in his house._

He slid out of bed as quietly as he could muster and snuck to his bedroom door. He opened it just a crack, and placed his ear to the opening, straining to hear. He distinctly heard a cupboard door opening and closing, then a drawer being pulled open and cutlery rattling. Someone was in his house and rifling through his kitchen. Was he being robbed?

Cas felt around for his phone to call 911, and kicked himself when I realized he'd left his cell in the living room last night after his call with Gabriel. He picked up his bedside lamp, the only object in the vicinity half-resembling any sort of weapon and began to tiptoe down the hall towards the noise.

There was a loud clatter, and Cas jumped. He debating just bolting to the front door and making a run for it. But then he heard another noise. “Son of a bitch,” the intruder cursed, in a low, muffled growl. Cas froze, because he _knew_ that voice. He couldn’t be right, but curiosity was now far outweighing any instinct for self-preservation. Cas relaxed his hold on the lamp, rounded the corner, and stood, bewildered, in the doorway to his kitchen.

Dean Winchester was in his kitchen frying eggs. _Naked._

His brain short circuited a moment while he took in the scene before him. Dean was completely naked but for an apron that he had tied around his waist that, while providing some modesty for his front half, was doing nothing whatsoever to conceal his ass. He was cracking eggs into a frying pan and muttering to himself. The toaster popped, and two slices of toast shot up.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice came out squeaky and high pitched, and he quickly cleared his throat.

Dean’s head shot up and he spun around to shield his ass from view.

“Hey! Cas!” Dean let out a nervous laugh and blushed. Beautiful, confident, larger-than-life Dean Winchester was standing naked in his kitchen and _blushing._

Dean twirled the spatula in his hand. “I uh… I thought I’d make breakfast.”

Cas continued to stare in disbelief. Was he dreaming? This had to be a dream, right?

Castiel realized he’d been staring far too long without saying anything when Dean’s face fell and the bright, eager look in his eyes slipped away.

“I’m sorry,” Dean mumbled. “I’ll uh—I can go. I just—”

“What? No!” Cas lurched forward, nearly tripping over the cord of the lamp. He set it down on the table.

“Let’s… can we back up? Why are you...” Cas struggled for words. “Why are you here? In my kitchen? Why are you—?”

“Ah, naked?”

Cas nodded weakly and felt his own cheeks beginning to warm.

“The cat,” Dean said, like this would explain everything. Castiel looked around for her, but Dean continued with a lopsided grin. “It was me!”

“Huh?” Castiel frowned, as words continued to fail him.

Dean shook his head and continued. “I don’t know what happened. I was in a parking lot, just sitting in my car. I drank this weird, nasty stuff that Sam gave me to help with my allergies, and then the next thing I knew, I was a cat. Luckily my window was open, so I was able to squirm out and get home.”

“That was you.” Castiel repeated, and squinted at Dean in disbelief. He tilted his head to one side, considering. The eyes were certainly the same shade of green. He frowned, then gasped as the previous night started coming back to him. “You slept in my bed!”

Dean dropped his gaze and kicked a little at a chair leg. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just… I dunno. I mean, I was able to think like me, but certain cat instincts kind of took over. It was cold. You were warm.” Dean shrugged. “I was scared of what was happening to me, and it just felt safer with you. You gotta realize,” Dean added hastily, “I didn’t know if I was going to turn back or not. I was just… making the best of a bad situation.

Cas nodded weakly.

"Hey, so I don’t have any of my stuff,” Dean said. He looked down at his apron-clad body and smirked. “Clearly. Uh, can I borrow your phone? I have a bone to pick with my brother."

Eager for the excuse to leave the room, Cas retrieved his phone from the living room. When he returned to the kitchen, he handed the phone over to Dean wordlessly, who called Sam and put it on speaker.

Sam picked up on the fourth ring, his voice slurred with sleep. "Cas?"

"It's me, you ass," said Dean.

There was a shuffling sound, and then Sam's voice was much more awake. "Dean? Why are you calling from Cas's phone?"

"Because whatever shit you made me drink last night turned me into a fucking cat."

Sam spluttered. Evidently he had given Dean a drink the previous night to combat his allergies to cats. Something stronger than Benadryl, as the girl Dean was trying to hook up with lived with several and he hadn't yet been able to spend the night on account of how sick they made him.

Dean swore at Sam, and Sam swore back. As things grew increasingly heated between the brothers, a growing realization settled over Castiel. He cleared his throat, and both brothers fell silent.

"Sam, this drink. Did you— did you try something from that spellbook you found?"

Sam sighed. "I was just experimenting a little. I thought I had translated that Latin and—"

"Wait, wait," Dean said. "You experimented on me? With magic? What the fuck was that I drank?"

"It was supposed to help!" Sam insisted. "It was a brew to help with allergies."

"It tasted like ass," Dean scowled, and Castiel stared at him in fascination. It was precisely the same scowl the cat had worn the previous night and how could he not have recognized that expression earlier?

"Something must have gotten lost in translation," Castiel mused.

"No shit." Dean continued to glare angrily at the phone.

"Wait, you were the cat from last night?" Sam asked. "The one that attacked me?"

"Yeah," Dean said. " _Because you turned me into a fucking cat._ "

"No," Sam said, "that can't be right. That was a girl cat."

"Pretty sure it wasn't," Dean snapped.

But Sam was insistent. "Tortoiseshell cats are almost always female.”

"And you— it— had such delicate features," Cas muttered, half to himself.

"I wasn't a girl cat, okay?" Dean huffed. "And this is so not the point. Don't think you're getting off the hook this easily, Sammy."

Sam was mid-sentence when Dean ended the call and tossed the phone aside. He rounded on Cas and narrowed his eyes. At first Castiel thought he was mad, but then the smirk returned. Cocky and confident.

“Delicate features, huh?” Dean grinned. “So uh, do you still think I’m cute now?”

This was bad. Castiel sighed and slumped into the kitchen chair nearest to him, letting his head fall into his hands. “Of course, Dean. Always. But if you heard me last night, then you already know that.” He rubbed wearily at his temples.

Dean pulled another chair next to Castiel and spun it around so he straddled the back of it. It squealed on the tile and Castiel looked up. The apron just barely covered Dean’s spread legs.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice had changed. It had gone quiet and soft.

Castiel looked up and was worried to see Dean’s expression had turned serious as well. This was it. Dean was going to say everything was over. They couldn’t possibly be friends anymore, not after all this.

“Cas, I’m so damned crazy about you too, you have no idea.”

Huh? Surely, Castiel hadn’t heard that right. He frowned at Dean.

“Why do you think I pick Sam up from work all the time and bring you both coffee and treats? I’m not that nice of a brother, dude. I just wanted the excuse to see you. But Jesus, Cas. You’re so fucking smart and beautiful and so far outta my league.”

Castiel snorted at that, because it was just ridiculous. But Dean smiled, and Castiel felt his heart pound faster as Dean reached toward him and brushed a thumb lightly over his stubble.

Then he pulled his hand back and stood up abruptly. “So what do you say? You want some breakfast?”

Dean started shoving food onto plates and brought them over to the table. Cas looked down at the plate of food before him, then up at the man who had made it. He took a tentative bite of the eggs, and groaned.

“Dean, these are delicious.”

Dean smiled back, but for whatever reason, he hadn’t sat down yet. He just stood there, with a soft look on his face. Then his gaze dropped to the floor and he shuffled a bit on the spot, scuffing his bare foot on the floor.

“So uh, I guess we found my family then,” Dean said. “But is there any chance you might still want to keep a stray like me?”

Castiel was out of his chair in an instant and nearly knocking Dean over with the force of his hug. His own smile stretched across his face so tight, his cheeks hurt.

“You cook like that, you can stay as long as you want,” Cas grinned.

The first brush of Dean’s lips against his was soft and tentative, and Castiel responded eagerly. He slid his hands up Dean’s neck and let his fingers thread through his hair. Dean made a pleased sound, and then laughed, and Castiel pulled back in confusion.

“Don’t stop,” Dean said, and pulled him in closer, until Cas was flush against his exposed chest and could feel Dean’s heart thumping loudly. “I love when you scratch behind my ears like that.”

Cas laughed too, and felt a surge of sudden boldness. “You can even share my bed again if you’d like,” he said as seductively as he could manage, and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Dean’s throat.

Dean’s eyebrow arched and he broke into a wicked grin. “Oh really?”

“Mhmm,” Cas nodded between the kisses he trailed up Dean’s jawline. “Just as long as you don’t hog the bed like you did last night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [here.](https://nox-lee.tumblr.com/post/166989744848/witchcraft-and-whiskers)
> 
> Update: wargurl83 has created really adorable art to go along with this fic. Check it out [here!](https://wargurl83.tumblr.com/post/176639636968/nox-lee-wargurl83-fanart-for-a-fanfiction)


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